Stanko's Stance

On Monday, April 29th, I was diagnosed with stage four Adenocarcinoma gastric cancer.

Today, Friday, May 10th, is my first day of Chemotherapy.

In a span of two weeks, everything has changed. It’s impossible to quantify. It’s impossible to feel.

Since February, I have been having digestive issues. There were issues with certain foods, a complete loss of appetite, really bad indigestion and cases of having trouble swallowing. Things came to a head in early April when I was in Chicago and I could not keep down any solid foods. If I managed to swallow even a tomato slice, or a spoonful of chicken, my body cratered to energy levels that could be labeled as zombie-like.

It turns out that these health concerns were valid.

After an endoscopy, CT Scans, multiple Emergency Department visits, X-Rays, MRIs, far too many catheter insertions, and infinite questionnaires, the rather depressing results are in.

I have cancer in my stomach, and my liver. All of it is too large to operate surgically. It’s too baked in.

According to the doctors at Sloan, the cancer I have is not curable. It’s something that can go away, but it’s something that I’ll have to monitor for the rest of my life.

There is also a hard truth. With what the doctors have been able to see thus far, if I do not respond to the Chemotherapy well, then they say 14 months. That’d be how long I can sustain.

But everyone is saying the right thing. My main doctor thinks I’ll be responding quickly in regards to a few symptoms. As of now, there are no plans to cancel the wedding, honeymoon, or anything of the sort.

Now with that being said, these optimistic outlooks were all before I was in the hospital for five days with a surprise pulmonary embolism. Turns out cancer can cause blood clots (had no idea) and my first bout with one put me in a mental and physical state I’ve never been in before.

Now I am living life with an oxygen machine, walking with a walker and being ushered to different medical offices in wheelchairs.

This life in the slow lane is not permanent, but it’s another detour that my life can take now. I am going to be on blood thinners for the rest of my life, and every calf impingement that may feel like a cramp could end up being another medical adventure.

I have a lot of changes coming. For the foreseeable future, I will be doing traditional Chemotherapy every other week, followed by 48 hours of Chemotherapy at home/on the road via fanny pack technology.

I will have that classic seven day pill counter on my dining room table to keep track of my drugs.

I am going to have a lot more people around me.

Since the news of my first official diagnosis, my parents have been up from Florida. My sisters have been with me hospital visits. This is going to be an adjustment for me. This is not a slight to people in general, but I don’t like them. I am an introvert. I like being alone, but I don’t like being lonely. I prefer having my background noise on working on whatever project I want. However, these days, the amount of noise and space in all my normal areas of respite have been altered.

It is just something else that I am going to need to adjust to. I am going to need to be able to ask for help because I can’t get myself out of a chair. I am unable to make my own food because standing up for too long makes me dizzy. I’m going to need to ask for help taking showers because I can’t get certain parts of my body wet.

I am going to learn how to ask for help, and not be stubborn. Wish me luck.

To all the people have helped me already, thank you. I know I’ve been a monster at times. A complete and total asshole. I’m quickly triggered and scared, which is not a good combo. To everyone who has helped me, and will continue to help me, thank you.

I need you now. And I’ll need you in the future. And here is to hoping the near and far future aren’t altered too much.

On Monday, April 29th, I was diagnosed with stage four Adenocarcinoma gastric cancer.

Today, Friday, May 10th, is my first day of Chemotherapy.

On Friday, July 5th, my fiancée and I will get married.

Stanko’s Stance may go on a hiatus, but it’ll be back.